Sartre Revisited
by editor frog
Summary: Five hours in an elevator car can lead to some pretty interesting discussion...


**Another dialogue-only oneshot. Hope you enjoy! [Usual disclaimers.]  


* * *

**

"This is all your fault."

"_Me?_ How is this _my_ fault?"

"Remember what happened the last time we got stuck in an elevator?"

"You freaked out and started crying for Hotch."

"_You_ kept pushing buttons and jumping on the…the thing."

"Well, it beat standing there like someone plastered you to the wall like a Calvin Klein poster for sweater vests…"

"If I recall, you were screaming for Hotch too."

"_I_ was tryin' to save our asses!"

"We were fine until you kept pushing buttons…"

"Oh, like this?" The sound of buttons being pressed at once filled the tiny cubicle.

"Stop it."

"Why? This thing's brand new, got inspected last week. No broken cables, nothing in disrepair."

"You'll…you'll mess up the computer thing in the panel and we'll plummet five stories and become pancakes! I don't' know about you, but becoming a bad representation of breakfast food wasn't my idea of a good way to end my day!"

"I don't eat pancakes anyway."

"Yeah, I know."

Silence loomed for a moment. "I'm starving."

"Again? Jesus, kid, you eat more than Emily, and that's sayin' something!"

"I can't help it my metabolism is faster than most."

"I'm beginning to wonder if you really eat."

"I eat."

"Thirteen pots of coffee with cream and sugar is not a food group on the pyramid, Reid."

"I do not drink thirteen pots of coffee."

"Coulda' fooled me. Dave got that new espresso machine and you've been glued to it like white on rice."

"Can I help it that I need caffeine to function?!" Silence. "Great. Now I want coffee."

A snicker floated along the thick tension. "Tough, kid. No coffee machines in an elevator."

"What is taking them so long?"

"Relax, Reid. We're not falling, we're not starving, and there's no threat of poisonous gases or whacked-out unsubs in the middle of Quantico."

"Tell that to Garcia."

"That was _one_ time. And we solved that, didn't we?"

"What about when Oliver Lawrence kidnapped me and his future partner in an elevator?" Brown eyes stared at the steel walls. "_This_ elevator, to be precise."

"And look how that turned out."

"Hmmph. I'm telling you, elevators are cursed."

"You're going to suddenly start walking six flights of stairs?"

"I might."

"Kid, you'd die from a heart attack after three. And what if Hotch sends you up to see Josh on fourteen?"

"Window washer rigs are statistically safer than elevator cars."

"You're serious."

"Not really, but they've got to be better than being stuck in an elevator for…what is it, five hours now?"

"Five ho…are you _kidding me?_"

"I wish I was. We got on at ten oh-five, and it's now just turning three o'clock."

"How the hell have…never mind, I really _don't _want to know."

"Probably took the stairs."

"Kid, I said I…"

"Or maybe everyone's out in the field. I thought JJ said we might be going to Westchester today, but I could be wrong."

"Since when are you wrong about stuff?"

"Since I honestly thought that the elevator was working properly this morning. And then there was that time in Dover with the fishing barge…"

"Okay, I get your point." Long fingers tapped randomly against the floor of the elevator car. "Hope they fix this thing soon…"

"Something wrong?"

"Aside from the fact we've been in here five hours and you've tried reciting the entire Star Trek trivia dictionary to me in the first three? Nah. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Well, I hope they fix this soon too. Are they even still working on it?"

"Yes, Reid. I can hear somethin' bangin' around out there."

A small sigh escaped a thin set of lungs. "Okay. They didn't forget us."

"Forget…why would they forget us?"

"Um, 'out of sight, out of mind'?"

"Kid, you're starting to get a little paranoid…"

"After five…no, make that five and a half hours in an elevator, you would be too."

Just then the car shifted, and once again the car began moving along its ascent towards the sixth floor.

"About time!"

"Yes. I'm beginning to think Sartre was wrong."

"About what?"

"Hell isn't other people, although they can be a pain sometimes."

"Okay, I'll bite. What is hell, then?"

"Broken elevator cars."

A chuckle escaped a pair of lips. "I'll second that, kid."


End file.
